


Why don’t we just say the rest with no sound?

by DryDreams



Series: In another life [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: A vaguely acceptable level of communication, Barebacking, Choking, Double Penetration, First time (for Jon and Martin), Friends With Benefits, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Some d/s energy but everyone is verse, Threesome, Tim is an enabler, Yearning!!!!, trans jon and trans martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams
Summary: “Oh, you don’t look too ravished Martin, don’t worry,” Tim says with a wink as he heads for the door. The knock comes again, more urgently and Tim’s smile falters. He really has no idea who would come over without texting first.Tim undoes the chain on the door and opens it just as Martin says “God, Tim, butyou do—“
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Series: In another life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710478
Comments: 91
Kudos: 799





	Why don’t we just say the rest with no sound?

“Oh, I have you right where I want you, Martin.”

Martin giggles as Tim flirts and nips at his ear. They’re up against the wall in Tim’s flat, where Tim had caged Martin in before they could even get halfway to the bedroom. The night is young (it’s 10:30; for the two of them on a Saturday this counts as young) and Tim has _plans_ for his freckled friend. Devious, damp plans. 

They’ve been fucking a lot this past month. For no specific reason; they just keep ending up out together or in together and subsequently in each other’s beds. 

Martin had been rather skittish in the beginning, when Tim had first propositioned him nearly a year ago. The guy obviously needed some human connection but didn’t want to commit— which Tim was more than fine with. After gently convincing Martin of this fact, that they could really just be friends, he _promised,_ they’d clicked really quickly. Martin is possibly Tim’s best friend, one of the few people who has seen him both cum and cry, and Tim trusts him with his life. He loves Martin, in a best friend way. He also loves to fuck him and kiss him and call him baby, also in a best friend way. 

Neither of them talk much about their other relationships, especially Martin. Not for any reason; they just aren’t the gossipy sort. Tim has suspicions that Martin isn’t sleeping with anyone else, but that he is really gunning for someone. Martin is not a subtle yearner. Tim would _love_ to know who the subject of said yearning might be, but he has no real clues. Martin is generally rather sweet and fumbly around most everyone, which makes things difficult to parse. 

Tonight they had gone out for a few drinks, taking advantage of a free day after a stressful week. Tim is a bit tipsy, Martin less so but his cheeks are rosy and he’s had just enough to make him especially giggly. It’s cute, and Tim desperately wants him on his back. 

“You have promises to make good on, Tim,” Martin complains good-naturedly, pushing gently but not urgently against Tim’s chest. 

“You’re not trying very hard to get away,” Tim shoots back, biting down under Martin’s jaw and sucking a nice bruise into the skin there.

The pleased sigh Martin makes is lovely and Tim is feeling rather breathless all of a sudden. When Martin slips his fingers into Tim’s hair, grabs a handful and tugs, Tim makes a very similar noise. Taking advantage of Tim’s now exposed throat, Martin hums and leans in, paying Tim back with a matching hickey. 

Tim is just about to give in and take both of them straight to bed when there’s a sharp knock at the door. 

Both of them freeze. Tim looks at the door and then looks at Martin. He has no idea who it is, which is never a great sign considering their history with… doors and people on the other sides of them.

Martin just gives a questioning and mildly worried look. Tim shrugs. “I have absolutely no idea,” he says and steps back. 

The knock comes again and Martin fumbles to straighten out his clothes, blush deepening. “Oh, you don’t look too ravished Martin, don’t worry,” Tim says with a wink as he heads for the door. The knock comes again, more urgently and Tim’s smile falters. He really has no idea who would come over without texting first. 

Tim undoes the chain on the door and opens it just as Martin says “God, Tim, but _you do—“_

It’s Jonathan goddamn Sims on his doorstep, looking somehow more tired than usual, clutching his backpack like it’s a life preserver and he’s on a sinking ship. The expression on his face is incredibly apologetic, and Tim softens immediately. 

He’s slept with Jon a few times now. _Well,_ more than a few. Jon is a rare treat, but they are pretty close and have a nice agreement. Tim very much likes helping Jon calm down and get off; likes to think he is personally contributing to Jon not isolating himself into hermit status. Sex with Jon is often kinky and oddly tender, and always leaves Tim wondering if he might be a little bit in love. That is, before he remembers that when Jon isn’t being sweet and vulnerable, he is insufferable and they would never work. 

It is fairly weird that Jon would just show up, but communication is not his strong suit and he looks rather shaken up. “Jon!” Tim exclaims, stepping aside to allow him entrance. “Are you alright? What are you—“

Tim trails off as he watches Jon open his mouth and then not say anything at all as he takes in Tim’s disheveled appearance and then looks past him, laying eyes on… Martin, presumably. His eyes widen with some indiscernible mixture of emotions and his mouth slams shut. 

Tim turns to look at Martin, baffled. Jon knows Martin, knows he and Martin are close friends… they all see each other nearly every day, why would it be so weird that— _ah. Right._ Tim’s hair is a mess and his shirt is half unbuttoned. The deeply obvious matching bite marks are also probably a bad sign. 

“Oh God, I’m—“ Tim starts to apologize and Jon speaks at the same time, not taking his eyes off Martin as he does. 

“I didn’t realize you were—“ he begins so Tim stops and lets him finish. Martin looks like a deer in headlights, not looking at Tim either, just at Jon. Something tugs in Tim’s mind. “B-busy I should have called, I’ll just, go,” Jon stutters quickly. He doesn’t move, though, feet firmly on the welcome mat. 

Tim looks back and forth between the two of them as they stare at each other. Then it clicks. You know, he’s been trying to be better about minding his own business but he’ll put that off for another day. 

“Jon, you look like shit, come in.” Tim says firmly and takes Jon by an elbow, guiding him inside. The spell on Martin seems to break, then, and he gives Tim the look of a man in crisis. Tim just raises an eyebrow at him as he waits for Jon to toe off his shoes. 

“I, it’s really no problem, I-I’m fine, truly. Obviously you and… you and…” Jon seems unable to spit out the name. 

_“Martin_ and I were not doing anything that can’t wait,” Tim finishes as he steers Jon to a chair. Martin makes a small disgruntled noise behind them. 

“I guess I’ll make tea,” he says, a bit pitched, and makes a very swift exit to the kitchen. Jon watches him go for a moment and then looks away. He’s fidgety and there are dark circles under his eyes— well, darker than usual, which usually means he’s been agonizing over something. This is a familiar sight, Jon sitting in the armchair looking frazzled. Tim has previously remedied the fragile state in a myriad of ways, or at least tried to. A memory flits through his mind, of Jon’s fingers scrabbling at the arms of the chair as he comes, head thrown back and pretty scarred throat exposed. The view from between Jon’s legs is always nice. 

Tim pushes the thought away as he sits on the couch, close to Jon’s chair. Attentively, he leans forward and puts a gentle hand on Jon’s knee. “What’s going on?” He presses. “You’re rude but you’re not usually a knock on my door in the middle of the night person,” he says and then regrets the tease as Jon gives him an alarmed look.

“I’m kidding, Christ,” Tim soothes and wiggles Jon’s leg back and forth a little. “You’re perfectly welcome. But it also isn’t normal, so fess up.”

Jon sighs. He glances towards the kitchen with another look that he seems to think is subtle. “I was just.. I don’t know what came over me, alright? I was just having a… really bad time, and my phone died, and I needed some… company. So I just. Came here. Because you’re usually so good… I mean you’re always… I’m sorry, I really don’t need to stay, I don’t—“

 _“Jon.”_ Tim says firmly. “As long as Martin doesn’t mind, obviously you can stay. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?” 

The state of “friendship” is a delicate thing in the archives, but last he’d checked this was a true statement. 

“Of course he can stay,” Martin says softly from behind them. His appearance startles Jon slightly, and Tim can’t help thinking of a baby deer. “Sorry, I can’t carry three mugs at once, would you mind helping me Tim?” Martin says this with a tone that means _come talk to me privately right now please,_ which is not to be ignored. 

Tim pats Jon’s knee once more and stands up. Jon watches him as he goes, and he habitually ignores the prickling feeling at the back of his neck. 

Martin practically drags Tim into the kitchen and then starts pacing in small circles. Tim watches him, amused. “So this is who you’ve been losing your mind over for months.” He says. _”Jon?”_

Martin turns entirely red, glaring at him. 

“Shut up.” He says, with not very much venom. “Oh my God, _God,_ he probably thinks I’m— that we—“ he whispers forcefully. Then something seems to dawn on him and he looks at Tim with growing bafflement. 

“Wait… why is he _here?_ You two… hang out? He comes to your flat? In the middle of the night?”

Tim smiles guiltily. Martin’s jaw drops slightly. _“Fuck off,” _he breathes. “I didn’t even think he… _what?”___

____

“Look,” Tim says defensively. “He asked, once, and you know I’m always good for it. And _you_ obviously see the appeal. So we do, sometimes. I didn’t know… about your whole…” he waves his hand in the air. “Pining thing.”

____

Martin’s nose wrinkles. “I’m not _pining.”_ He says. Tim scoffs.

____

“You can’t lie to me, Blackwood. _You’re_ obviously not sleeping with him.” 

____

Sputtering, Martin turns towards the mugs on the counter. Then he stops and turns back around, fist clenching and unclenching periodically at his side. “I can’t. Go out there. I can’t just go… he _knows.”_

____

“Yeah?” Tim says, patiently. “Martin. He’s literally doing the same thing. It’s not like he’s going to judge you for it.”

____

Martin still looks skeptical.

____

“Look. Think about it for a second. Are you writing him off for sleeping with me? Hm?” Tim presses.

____

This seems to get through to Martin and he takes a deep breath. “No.” He says, simply. “But I… God, it doesn’t even matter, I’m sure he doesn’t have any interest in me whatsoever.” 

____

Tim closes his eyes for a moment. “Martin. Christ. I’m begging you to have a little self-respect.”

____

“Oh come off it, Tim,” Martin hisses and turns back towards the tea. 

____

“I’m serious. I’d be willing to bet…” He thinks for a moment and then smirks. “I’d be willing to bet a threesome on the fact that he might in fact be interested.”

____

Martin flushes again. “I… _hoo boy.”_ He exhales violently, and Tim suppresses a laugh at the thought of what exactly might have flashed before his eyes at the suggestion. “No, I don’t take that bet,” he mutters.

____

Rolling his eyes, Tim steps forward and grabs one of the mugs, pointedly leaving Jon’s for Martin to carry. “Fine. I bet you I won’t lock you two in my bedroom and not let you out until you speak to each other.”

____

Sheer panic crosses Martin’s face. “You wouldn’t.” 

____

“Oh I would. Look, maybe offer to walk him home, if he decides to go, okay? Minimum.”

____

After a moment of silence and a deep breath, Martin nods. “Alright.” Then he squints at Tim. “But stop playing matchmaker. I can do it myself.”

____

Tim refrains from pointing out that he hasn’t, yet.

____

Jon looks up immediately as they come back into the room. He’s sitting primly in the armchair, hands clasped in his lap. His gaze flicks quickly back and forth between the two of them, wheels obviously turning in his brain.

____

“Sorry that took so long, the kettle was being fussy!” Tim says brightly, sitting on the other end of the couch this time. Martin gingerly sits at the end near Jon. 

____

“Here you go,” he says, handing one of the mugs to Jon. His voice is soft and Jon looks at him like he’s handing him the world and Tim bites back a teasing comment. God, were they always like this? How had he not noticed?

____

“Thank you, Martin.” Jon says with an equal amount of nervous reverence. 

____

There’s a beat of silence and Tim is just about to kick Martin encouragingly in the shin when he speaks. “Are you doing alright, Jon?” He asks gently. “Were you at work today?”

____

They hadn’t been, since it was the bloody weekend but that means nothing to Jon. 

____

Without even flinching, Jon takes a slurp of his tea which should have been far too hot for slurping and then holds it to his chest, curling around it slightly. He seems slightly more relaxed now that Martin is next to him, though still far from it. “It’s really nothing. I’m just… wound tight, I suppose. My head is going a mile a minute and I feel like… I really feel like I might just snap in half if I don’t figure out how to calm the hell down.” Jon says, the plaintiveness in his tone driving the point home. 

____

Martin looks entirely heartbroken by this, which is vaguely unwarranted but also probably not exaggerated at all, knowing him. “God, I’m sorry, Jon… I…” He starts and then stops. Jon glances up at him expectantly.

____

Tim feels like he might as well be invisible. Not that he minds. This is not only fascinating to see unfold, but he is finding himself delighted that it is happening at all. He is worried about Jon, of course, but judging by the way his shoulders seem to relax with every word Martin says, he figures it will all be alright.

____

“Um. What do…” Martin pauses and Tim can tell that he’s carefully considering what to say, working himself up to doing something with confidence.

____

“What do you usually do? To unwind yourself, I mean.” He asks quietly, but there’s a touch of firmness there. Tim silently applauds him. Firmness is generally what Jon needs at times like this. 

____

Jon flushes. He looks immediately at Tim, who raises his eyebrows and gives a short nod. _Go on, you can tell him._

____

“Well I. I suppose that’s why I’m… here. I…” Jon takes a deep breath, staring into his tea. Then he looks up, his jaw set in the way it always is when he has decided that he’s going to ask a question and Tim braces himself instinctively.

____

“Are the two of you together, then?” He asks, and it’s got that brave, scary Jon tone to it but it’s a bit shaky, no compulsion to be found.

____

_“No.”_ Martin says forcefully as Tim shakes his head. 

____

“We’re just friends, Jon,” Tim reassures. “Like you and I. Except that we… well. It’s quite a bit different, actually, but not in the sense you’re asking about.”

____

The relief on Jon’s face is palpable. God, Tim almost feels like he should give them the room. But he’s not going to, mostly because he’s selfish. 

____

“Yeah, yes,” Martin agrees hurriedly. “No uh… no strings attached, you know. Just. Just…”

____

Jon bumps Martin’s knee with his, mouth curling up at the edges just slightly. “I know.”

____

Tim feels immensely fond. Well, he had the whole time, but the feeling has suddenly greatly increased. He entertains a thought about cooking them breakfast in the morning, Jon with a third matching bruise on his neck. 

____

“Were you worried Martin would be stealing me away?” Tim teases and then takes a sip of his tea to hide his smirk. 

____

A look of mild panic crosses Jon’s face as he stares at Tim, obviously realizing what must happen now. 

____

“I...it’s not like that, no, I—“

____

At this point Martin looks like he might keel over and die but somehow in a good way, white knuckling his mug. Jon looks back to him and sees this, goes through the full spectrum of human emotion in a few seconds, and then drops his face into his hands and groans. “I really wasn’t expecting this to happen,” he mumbles. Then he picks his head back up and looks Martin dead in the eye. “No, I was rather worried about the opposite.” He says, loud and clear.

____

Martin makes a strangled sound. Then he quickly puts his mug down on the table.

____

“God, I’m sorry, Martin this is entirely inappropriate this whole situation is ridiculous, I only came to have some… some company, I wasn’t trying to interrupt or start some grand confession, I’m quite sure you don’t have time for—“

____

In one smooth motion that Tim finds incredibly impressive, Martin takes Jon’s mug away from him with one hand and puts it on the table as he cups Jon’s face in the other, leans in and kisses him. There’s a muffled noise of surprise from Jon and the hand that had been holding the tea grasps helplessly at nothing before quickly pulling back and fisting in Martin’s shirt. 

____

There’s a long moment of stillness as they simply press against each other. The kiss had landed perfectly, kudos to Martin, no accidental collision or clacking of teeth. Then the moment seems to crack like an egg as Jon gasps and then pushes back, lips parting desperately. It’s still rather chaste but Tim feels a shock of arousal in his gut, just as taken aback as Jon seems to be. 

____

It’s over almost as quickly as it began, both of them pulling back and blinking at each other like they’re waking up from a dream. Tim huffs out a laugh. “Well that’s not what _I_ was expecting to happen tonight,” he says. Both of their heads snap towards him, and they’re blushing as if they had forgotten he was there. 

____

“God, I’m sorry,” Martin begins and Tim rolls his eyes. 

____

“Shut up, Martin. Having the two of you snogging on my couch is a dream come true.”

____

Jon sputters and looks away. Martin’s mouth quirks into a smile. “You’re the worst.”

____

“Considering I just orchestrated this unspoken confession that has obviously been long overdue, I think I deserve a little better than that.” 

____

“You only told me to walk him home!” Martin says defensively. “I was the one who did it!”

____

“Yes, and good job making a decision for once in your life,” Tim shoots back. Jon loudly clears his throat and they both pause, glancing back at him. He gives them an exasperated look. 

____

“I’m right _here,”_ he says, and he sounds so wounded that Tim can’t help it, he puts his head in his hands and laughs. 

____

“So that threesome, huh?” He teases and Martin smacks him on the leg.

____

“Oh my God, _Tim,”_ Martin hisses. “He’s having a bad day!”

____

“Actually,” Jon says very quietly and Martin freezes again. Tim raises his eyebrows extremely high, immediately considering if he has the equipment for such an endeavor. Obviously he does.

____

They both wait for Jon to continue, and he does, staring intently at his mug on the table. “I was… hoping just a bit, for… some sort of. Something.” He pauses and Tim can practically see Martin’s mouth going dry. 

____

“Yeah?” Tim prompts, mind running wild with possibilities. He’s good at changing his game plan on the fly. 

____

Martin is once again staring at Jon now, brain almost certainly short circuiting. Tim feels just a touch of pity for him. 

____

When Jon finally glances back up, he looks determined but not entirely confident. “It would be nice. To try that. With Martin too, I mean. If you wanted.”

____

Tim laughs, partly with disbelief. “I’m really not the one you should be asking, _obviously_ I’m down.”

_____ _

“Right,” Jon says simply and then looks at Martin, who is opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. 

_____ _

“I, certainly wouldn’t… mind either, if... _God,”_ Martin breathes, failing to finish the thought. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Yes please.”

_____ _

Jon lets out a shaky breath but he seems relieved and proud of himself. He looks at Tim. “Well, I suppose this is more than all of us bargained for, hmm?”

_____ _

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Tim says, pitching his voice down slightly in a way he knows will get both of them— and it does. He gets two little twin shivers, Jon going wide-eyed and Martin turning to glare at him. 

_____ _

“But _not_ on the couch.” He continues and stands up. With a little flourish, he offers Jon a hand. “Shall we?” 

_____ _

Jon takes it and lets himself be pulled standing. Then Tim turns on his heel and heads toward the hallway. Jon follows dutifully and Martin hurriedly moves to catch up.

_____ _

“So how long have you… I mean, you don’t have to tell me,” Martin babbles as he trails behind them. “I’m just curious.”

_____ _

“Since last March,” Jon responds without hesitation. “I was struggling with… hm. Meeting my own needs. And you know how he always makes sure everyone knows he’s available, well…” 

_____ _

“Hey!” Tim protests. “Not everyone!”

_____ _

“Sure,” Martin shoots back. “Name one person in the archives you haven’t propositioned.”

_____ _

“Elias,” Jon answers for him. “Surely.”

_____ _

Tim spins around as he pushes open the bedroom door and gives a guilty smile. He’s definitely propositioned Elias. Whether or not it was serious is debatable. 

_____ _

_“Goddammit,_ Tim.” 

_____ _

“Look, no, I have not propositioned everyone. I have a rule against people in relationships, because I’m not a dick. _Unless_ they both ask—“ Martin drags a hand down his face at that, but Jon simply nods thoughtfully. “Also, none of the current interns deserve me.”

_____ _

“The past interns though…?”

_____ _

“Some. Definitely some.”

_____ _

“Alright, enough of this,” Martin huffs and steps into Tim’s space, pulling him forward by the front of his shirt and kissing him. Jon makes a soft noise behind them, a little _oh,_ so Tim makes a bit of a show out of it. He slides his fingers into Martin’s hair and tugs gently as he bites at his lip. Martin grunts softly and bites back, harder but not enough to draw blood. Then he pulls away and Tim pouts exaggeratedly. 

_____ _

“You didn’t bite hard enough,” he says. Martin gives him a devious look and doesn’t respond, instead turning and reaching out to Jon. 

_____ _

For a moment Jon stares at his hand and then looks up to his face, only starstruck for a few beats before he nods and takes it. Tim steps aside to let them pass, just watching as Martin pushes Jon to sit on the bed and then bends over him, taking his face in both hands and kissing him. 

_____ _

Jon groans, muffled against Martin’s mouth as the kiss quickly deepens. He brings his hands up and wraps them around Martin’s wrists, holding like he might somehow fall if he doesn’t. 

_____ _

While it’s not always the same, Tim has a general idea of what Jon needs and it's going to be this, for a little while. So he lets them get to know each other, forcing himself away to go collect a few things. 

_____ _

When he returns Jon is on his back and Martin is above him, one hand slipping under his shirt and the other arm braced by his head, wrist at a slightly awkward angle so he can pet distractedly at Jon’s hair. 

_____ _

They’re visibly drinking each other in, with that certain desperation that comes with tension having just broken. At the same time, they’re moving against each other like they’ve always known the way, the perfect give and take. 

_____ _

Tim blinks, and then he and his dick both feel a touch jealous, so he joins them. When the mattress dips under his weight, they pull apart and Jon gasps in a breath. 

_____ _

“Hiya,” Tim says, a bit cheeky. “Am I interrupting something?”

_____ _

“A welcome interruption,” Jon murmurs. Martin is ignoring them, kissing over Jon’s jaw and down his lovely throat. 

_____ _

“Oh do get him into the club, Martin,” Tim says, moving close enough to touch. Jon looks at him puzzled for a second before his eyes flutter shut and he moans as Martin licks over the tender place just above his collarbone and then seals his mouth over it. Tim knows just how that feels, and how nicely dark the spot will be in a few minutes. 

_____ _

“You did never answer my question,” Martin says breathlessly after he finishes. 

_____ _

Tim has forgotten what the question was, but Jon obviously hasn’t judging by the look on his face. 

_____ _

“How do I unwind?” Jon relays softly, for Tim’s benefit alone. After a moment, Tim realizes it’s genuinely a question.

_____ _

“Oh, you coward. You don’t want to tell him yourself?”

_____ _

Jon’s eyes flick to him, and his pupils are almost fully dark. Tim shifts to appease the arousal it stirs up in him; he's half hard against his thigh. “Fine, I’ll tell him. Or rather—“ He reaches behind him and grabs the harness, dangling it from two fingers. “Who do you want to fuck you?”

_____ _

Somehow it’s clear from Jon’s expression when exactly he realizes that Tim having such a thing means that Martin must use it. His lips part and he simply says _“oh.”_

_____ _

Martin is now white knuckling the sheets by Jon’s head. “You’re getting the mouth of whoever you don’t choose,” he says, a bit shaky. 

_____ _

Jon’s eyes snap to his face. “At the same time? How exactly do you plan to accomplish that?” 

_____ _

Groaning, Tim finally curls against Jon’s side. “I’m going to die,” he says and licks a stripe up Jon’s neck. “You’re both already too much on your own, together it’s fatal.”

_____ _

Jon huffs out a laugh but Martin is waiting for an answer like a dog begging. When Tim bites at Jon’s earlobe, Jon lets it out in one breath. “Why can’t I have all of the above?”

_____ _

Martin gapes at him. “At the _same time, or?”_

_____ _

“Jon just said that,” Tim mumbles helpfully against Jon’s neck. He’s decided Jon needs more hickeys.

_____ _

__He feels Jon shrug and doesn’t resist the urge to fully grind against Martin’s leg which is conveniently nearby._ “God,_ Jon,” he mutters just as Martin whispers. _“Jesus.”_

__

Far too smugly, Jon says “I’m quite the opposite of a Messiah.” 

__

Tim bites him for that and is rewarded with a lovely sigh. 

__

“I can’t say I’ve ever had Jon in between someone else before, but considering what I know, I’m sure it would be very helpful to his condition.” He says, rolling onto his back and tugging Martin towards him. Jon protests wordlessly and rolls after them. 

__

They end up in something of a heap, Martin half on top of Tim and Jon half wedged between them. 

__

“Boys— _mphh._ Boys,” Tim says in between Martin’s kisses. “We need to get. Organized. I know I’m pretty, but— This is— _hha,”_ He shivers as Martin’s knee settles between his legs. “Chaos! Martin!”

__

Obligingly Martin pulls back, only for Jon to catch him by the chin and kiss him again. “Goddammit,” Tim says but he’s laughing, he can’t help it. “Goddammit, alright, off,” he says good naturedly and shoves at them. 

__

After they untangle themselves, Jon sitting back on his heels and Martin cross legged beside him, Martin looks for a moment like he might actually pay attention. Until Jon, the little sneak, slips his hand around Martin’s wrist and tugs it up to his face. As he presses a kiss to the inside of it and then to the heel of the palm, Martin watches him, spellbound. 

__

Tim groans. “Jon, give me just _one_ moment, and then the two of you can make sweet love all night long, alright? Just one moment, I have a game plan.” Looking bashful, Jon puts Martin’s hand back but doesn’t let it go.

__

“Christ, it’s like you’re newlyweds. You two _seriously_ had no clue that you were into each other until tonight?”

__

Martin’s cheeks are red. “Look,” he begins at the same time that Jon says “Well…”

__

Both of them look at Jon immediately and he looks at the ceiling just as fast. “You _knew?”_ Martin exclaims. 

__

Jon somehow looks away even more pointedly. 

__

“I mean it’s _fine,_ I guess, I mean here we are, but why didn’t you _tell me_ that you _liked me too?”_

__

Tim snorts. “Martin, please consider who you’re speaking to.”

__

Jon looks back just to glare at Tim. “What’s that supposed to mean!?”

__

“Oh calm down, Mister ‘pretend I do not see it.’”

__

Pouting, Martin goes to twist his hands together and then realizes Jon still has hold of one. Looking distressed now, Jon leans over to fuss over him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I just wasn’t sure, you know? I—“ he holds Martin’s face and presses quick kisses to his cheekbone and over his nose. 

__

Tim sighs and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He’s nearly got it completely off before Martin notices. He taps Jon’s hip, immediately distracted from his lament. “Jon. Jon. Clothes.” 

__

Less in a displeased way and more in a contemplative way, Jon frowns.

__

“You okay?” Tim inquires. Jon isn’t always good with being entirely naked, but neither is Martin so he doesn’t suspect that will be any sort of issue.

__

“Yes, I’m just. Not wearing my binder today. Which is fine! Just…” He glances at Martin. “I um. It’s okay if you… want to touch. Just no handfuls, okay?”

__

Martin blinks. Then he blinks again and opens his mouth. Then he shuts it. “Yeah, of course.” He says finally. “I’m. Yes. Mine’s staying on, so. Yeah. Thank you for telling me.”

__

To Tim’s utter bafflement, Jon practically beams at this as he gives a short nod. Jon doesn’t _beam._

__

Martin smiles back, and oh boy there are those pesky feelings of utter fondness back again. Tim doesn’t make much effort to wave them away. 

__

When Jon attempts to pull his sweater over his head, his shirt gets tangled up between his elbows and he gets stuck halfway. Martin’s hand skims up Jon’s side before tugging at the buttons, freeing him with not much trouble. When Jon emerges his hair is mussed and Martin reaches for it. Tim half expects him to fix it up but he ruffles it more instead, much to Jon’s chagrin. 

__

“Oh, just wait,” Tim says happily, scooting over to tug at Martin’s shirt. “Jon gets the most ridiculous sex hair.”

__

Batting his hand away, Martin laughs. “I can’t wait. Let me do this, you two take your trousers off.”

__

“Aye aye, Captain,” Tim says. He turns to Jon and suggestively raises his eyebrows. Jon tips his chin up like it’s a dare. A wordless _come and get me._

__

“Oh, I see,” Tim says and grabs for Jon’s conveniently close ankle. Not expecting this move, Jon tries to pull away but fails utterly and goes down with a yelp when Tim tugs him closer. 

__

“Oh you prick,” he says breathlessly as Tim crawls on top of him. His hair is all feathered out against Tim’s blue sheets, pretty as a picture.

__

“You like my prick,” Tim teases as he pops the button on Jon’s jeans. Rolling his eyes, Jon rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

__

“Not enough to discuss it at length,” he says dryly and there’s a beat of silence before Tim and Martin both lose it.

__

_“At length,”_ Tim wheezes as Martin folds in half, giggling uncontrollably. 

__

“Shut up!” Jon exclaims but he’s smiling as he gently pinches Tim’s side. 

__

“Make me!” 

__

Jon does, grabbing a handful of Tim’s hair and pulling him down for a kiss. God, Tim missed kissing Jon— he’s _nippy_ and he has a clever tongue. Faintly Tim hears a mildly plaintive Martin sound as he licks into Jon’s mouth. Blindly he reaches out and gestures for Martin to come closer. 

__

“No, we’ll get disorganized again,” Martin says. “I thought you had a plan?”

__

“A very.. _mpphh,_ a very vague plan.” He mumbles in return. Jon tugs sharply on his hair. “With lots of room for— _Ah,_ Christ, Jon— improvisation.”

__

Clumsily Tim gets his hands in Jon’s pants and wiggles them down around his thighs, but that’s as far as he gets with Jon biting his tongue. Then Martin is pushing him off, and Jon huffs but let’s him go, propping himself up on his elbows. 

__

Tim flops onto the bed next to Jon, smiling up at Martin who looks at them both sternly. “Stay.” He says threateningly, and tugs Jon’s pants the rest of the way off. One grey sock comes off with them, but the other— blue, not a match whatsoever— stubbornly stays. Martin seems to miss this, moving on to the button of Tim’s jeans. 

__

Tim watches, delighted, as Jon frowns deeply and attempts to get the sock off with his other foot. He is unfairly cute, hair falling in his eyes as his face pinches in focus. He’s also so lovely that Tim aches with it, all scarred dark skin. The sharp angles of him contrast with the soft parts... the gentle swell of his chest and the bit of softness around his hips that still somehow survives, despite how fucking skinny he is. 

__

After a moment Tim realizes that his pants have been off and that Martin has gone still. He glances over to find Martin just as hypnotized as he is. Finally Jon succeeds, pushing the sock off and kicking it off the bed. He smiles proudly to himself and Martin _squeaks._

__

Alarmed, Jon looks up and then frowns again. “What are you looking at?” He demands.

__

“God, you’re just…” Martin says, and then trails off. Instead of finishing, he scoots over and pushes Jon’s legs apart gently, crawling between them as Jon watches, silent and wide-eyed. When Martin leans down and presses a reverent kiss to his collarbone and slides a hand up his side, Jon shivers and tips his head back. 

__

“Martin…” he breathes, and his next intake hitches in his throat as Martin noses down his sternum, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses. 

__

“Gorgeous, Jon, you’re gorgeous.” Martin breathes. He looks up, then, questioning as he hovers above the soft peak of Jon’s chest. “Does this count as okay touching?”

__

Mouth watering, Tim watches Jon’s chest heave. “Yes, yes, please,” Jon says softly, hurriedly. 

__

Martin’s tongue darts out and Tim can practically taste him. When he licks over Jon’s nipple and then closes his mouth around it, Jon whimpers and shifts on the bed. 

__

Deciding to be proactive, Tim crawls over and manhandles Jon just a little so he can sit behind him. No one protests, adjusting in kind, and Jon happily drops his head back on Tim’s shoulder and curls a hand around his thigh once they’re settled. Martin is taking his sweet time exploring every inch of Jon, he’s made it down to the jut of his hip and is paying special attention to the soft dip there. Tim nuzzles into his neck, nosing under his hair and breathing in the fading smell of his shampoo. 

__

“How are you doing, handsome?” Tim murmurs close to Jon’s ear. “You want me to show Martin how to unravel you properly?” He punctuates his question by skating his fingertips up Jon’s arm and shoulder, coming to rest gently at the base of his neck. 

__

Jon hisses out his next breath and his hips jerk slightly. When Martin looks up, wide-eyed, Tim lightly taps his fingers.

__

“Yes,” Jon says and then whines high and desperate when Tim pushes up under his jaw and squeezes. 

__

_“Jesus Christ.”_ Martin sounds almost like he’s the one suddenly not getting air, and Tim gives him a proud little smirk over Jon’s shoulder. Jon’s heels slide against the sheets, mouth hanging open as he shakily draws in the shallow breaths that Tim is allowing him. 

__

“Touch him, Martin,” Tim says firmly, pushing at his knee with one foot. It takes a moment for Martin to process this and move, but he does, not taking his eyes off Jon’s face.

__

Gently Martin tugs Jon’s briefs off, kissing the inside of his knee as he goes. He hesitates just briefly then, looking up at Jon like he’s some sort of miracle, gaze drifting from his face to between his legs. 

__

“What’s the situation down there?” Tim jokes as he loosens his grip on Jon’s throat. Jon gasps in a deep breath and tips his chin down, watching Martin intently. 

__

Slowly, as if Jon is going to break if he’s not careful, Martin skims his palm up the inside of Jon’s thigh. He dips two fingers in, parting the dark curls and sliding up, up. Tim sees slick catch the light, a clear strand forming and then breaking under Martin’s fingertips. _“Oh,”_ Martin breathes and Jon makes a small, whimpering sound as Martin pushes so slightly against his dick. “You’re so wet, Jon, Christ.”

__

“Let me see,” Tim says, low, and Jon groans, shifting, arching towards Martin.

__

Arching further away from Tim, which is mildly unfortunate considering that when Martin spreads Jon open and thumbs at his pretty dick, the urge to grind on something becomes incredibly strong. 

__

But that can wait. Martin is already very quickly traveling downward, dragging his mouth across Jon’s skin as he goes. 

__

Jon makes a sound that Tim has rarely heard when Martin licks at his cunt; strangled and high, like he’s being dangled off the edge of a high place. It’s usually a sound reserved for the best of accomplishments, which just goes to show that Tim is going to have to up his game if Martin can get it with one pass of his tongue. 

__

He rakes his fingers through Jon’s hair, from his nape up over his ear and to the top of his head, dragging his nails as he goes. Jon writhes and twists his head to the side, pushing himself up slightly so he can get his mouth on Tim’s neck. Happily Tim allows him room, groaning as he licks messily at his jaw. There’s a burst of hot air as Jon whines against his throat, and Martin groans in response. 

__

Martin’s pretty green eyes blink open and they’re heavy lidded as he looks up at them, nose pressed into Jon’s curls, jaw working. Tim’s dick twitches at the sight and he sucks in a sharp breath, tugging at Jon’s hair as he does. 

__

“Look, Jon, look how pretty he is, eating you out.” He whispers, and it’s Martin who whimpers this time. His eyebrows furrow but he doesn’t look away as Jon tips his chin down. Tim can tell when their eyes meet because Jon’s breath catches in his throat. He reaches down and strokes his thumb over Martin’s forehead, the space between his eyebrows— Martin’s eyes flicker shut and he whines softly. He leans into Jon’s hand as it brushes over his temple and then cups his face. Then he comes up for air, mouth open and shiny-wet. 

__

“Tell him what a good job he’s doing, isn’t he so good?” Tim whispers against the shell of Jon’s ear. Martin is already flushed pink but he somehow reddens even further. He turns his head to press a kiss to the heel of Jon’s palm as Jon sucks in a breath and then speaks. 

__

“So good, Martin, you’re so lovely, I—I—“

__

“Yeah?” Tim prompts, but Martin ducks his head back down, cheeks hollowing as he suckles at Jon’s dick and Jon doesn’t continue, cutting himself off with a moan. 

__

Tim allows this and drags his nails up Jon’s side instead, making him arch his back. When he pinches one peaked nipple and rolls it between his fingers, Jon bucks so hard Martin has to wrap an arm around his thigh and pull him back down. He sends Tim a glare, but the threat doesn’t quite come through, what with the love-drunk look in his eyes. 

__

When Jon’s thighs start shaking Martin glances up at Tim again, humming in question. Funny how Tim has somehow ended up in charge here. 

__

“Jon…” he murmurs, slipping his hand up to rest loosely at Jon’s throat again. “If you come now you’re gonna come again later for us too, yeah? I think with Martin here we could break your record, what do you think?”

__

Jon is fully dazed, fingers digging into Tim’s thigh as he shakes. It takes a minute for him to register but Tim waits patiently, watching Martin’s pink tongue peek out every so often, enjoying the view. “Maybe,” Jon finally breathes. “I… I wanna, now, though, please.”

__

Tim doesn’t know exactly what Martin does after Jon says this, but he has a pretty good idea as Jon bucks and moans, fists his hands in Martin’s hair. “Christ, fuck, _ah— ah, ah, Martin, please—“_

__

The moment Tim pushes up under Jon’s jaw again and squeezes, the man goes still against him. Just for a moment— then he jerks, once, twice, mouth open but not making a sound. 

__

On the third spasm he lets out a sound like a dam inside him has broken, a shuddering, whining moan, and then he sucks in half a breath before letting it out immediately in a windswept _“Martin.”_

__

And Martin is hanging on every move Jon makes, staring mouth agape, frozen with his tongue still poking out his mouth. There’s a little strand of slick and saliva stretched between the tip of his tongue and Jon’s cunt, and it breaks as Jon arches his back one last time before going limp. Tim huffs out a laugh against the shell of Jon’s ear and loosens his grip on Jon as he watches Martin blink and snap his jaw shut. He’s enjoying himself so much.

__

Jon shifts and makes a small, very cute sound in the back of his throat when Martin nuzzles into the crease of his thigh and kisses there. “So good, Jon, lovely,” Tim murmurs and both Jon and Martin hum in response. 

__

There’s a moment of silence as Jon catches his breath and Martin kisses him everywhere he can reach. Jon curls his fingers in Martin’s hair, just holding as he watches. 

__

Tim is rather distracted by just how close Jon’s arse is to his dick in this new position, and decides after a minute that now is as good a time as any to close the gap.

__

Just as he’s about to interrupt the peaceful moment, Jon beats him to it. He pats Martin’s cheek and gently pushes him away. Then he twists around in Tim’s arms like a cat. He’s a wiggly, wiry little thing; Tim might not have been able to catch him if he tried. 

__

He loses sight of Martin completely as Jon leans close, wide eyes filling most of Tim’s vision. “Hi,” Tim says.

__

“Hello.” Jon replies, very seriously. 

__

“Can I help you?” 

__

Jon’s solemn expression doesn’t change as he reaches down and firmly palms Tim’s dick through his boxers, squeezing gently. “Can I help _you?”_ He asks, and it’s still so earnestly serious that Tim would laugh if he weren’t suddenly very compromised. 

__

The shock of pleasure makes Tim jump and shiver, and he tips his head back with a moan. Jon chases him, his mouth insistent against Tim’s throat as he slips his wicked fingers under Tim’s waistband. 

__

“Hey now, I thought you were the guest of honor,” Tim manages.

__

“Hush.” Jon scolds. He’s teasing now, just rubbing at the head of Tim’s cock with his thumb, sliding easily through the moisture that’s gathered there. 

__

“Hush!?” Tim sputters, pushing his hips up to try and get more friction. _“Me?”_

__

There’s a snort of laughter from behind Jon and Tim cranes his neck to see Martin messing with the straps on the harness, pants nowhere to be seen. The thought of Jon between the two of them, fucked at both ends, hits Tim like a freight train. “Oh _fuck,”_ he breathes, wrapping his hand around Jon’s wrist.

__

Jon makes an offended, questioning sound as he stills his hand. “What?” He demands, and sits back on his heels. When he glances back at Martin his mouth snaps shut and his jaw tics. Tim barks out a laugh. He can see how this is going to go already, and it’s not the way where Jon gets his way. Oh, he’ll get what he wants. But he’ll get it their way. 

__

When Martin is finished, he looks up at them with a touch of shyness in his face that Tim hasn’t seen in a long time. “Is… you want me to, yeah?” He directs the question at Jon, rubbing anxiously at this thigh as he does. 

__

Tim wordlessly protests when Jon immediately forgoes him, turning and crawling over to Martin. “Now that’s just cruel,” Tim complains, wrapping his own hand around his poor and neglected dick. 

__

Jon ignores him, climbing into Martin’s lap. Martin’s eyes go round and he wraps an arm around Jon’s waist, shifting to let Jon straddle his thigh. 

__

“I didn’t mean right this _second,_ Jon,” He starts, sending Tim a very distractedly apologetic look. “You could have stayed with Tim, I— _mphh.”_ Jon grips his chin and kisses him possessively. 

__

“Tim will get his in a moment,” Jon says when he pulls back. “Yes, I want you to fuck me, please, Martin.”

__

Tim raises an eyebrow. “In a moment, hmm?” He shifts to sit on his knees and then sidles up behind Jon. “What about Martin being here makes you think you can be such a brat?” He breathes before sinking his teeth into the curve of Jon’s shoulder. 

__

Jon shudders violently and his head drops against Martin’s chest. _“Fuck,”_ he whines through gritted teeth, as Tim happily licks over the new quickly forming bruise. 

__

“Well?” Tim prompts. Martin noses Tim out of the way to press a sympathetic kiss to Jon’s shoulder. 

__

“‘M not being a brat,” Jon grumbles. 

__

“Oh but you’re usually so good and sweet, Jon, and you’re not being very sweet to me.” 

__

Martin giggles and then stops himself, biting back a smile when Jon picks up his head and looks at him, affronted. “Now what?”

__

“It’s just…” Martin laughs again. “I can’t imagine you’re usually very good and sweet at all,” he says. “Not for _Tim.”_

__

Jon pouts furiously as Tim laughs, wrapping his arms around Jon’s waist above where Martin has ahold of him. 

__

“It takes some work,” Tim says, and slides his fingertips over Jon’s side, just under his ribs. Jon growls and wiggles in their arms— he loves being touched there, and he knows Tim is well aware of every such spot. “To get him to be nice.” 

__

He presses his lips to Jon’s ear as he continues speaking. “Just have to fuck the stubborn out of you, right Jon? You can’t be bossy if you can’t remember your own name.”

__

Jon obviously has no suitable reply to this. “Well, get on with it then,” he grits out after a moment. 

__

“Oh, _gladly,”_ Martin breathes, and pulls Jon flush against him, burying his face in Jon’s neck. Jon groans and pushes against his shoulders. 

__

“Sit, Martin,” he says breathlessly and Martin does, easily lifting Jon so they can settle into a more sustainable position. Tim gives them a bit of space, hunting around for the bottle of lube he knows is somewhere on the bed. 

__

He doesn’t take his eyes off of them though; no way is he missing the moment Jon gets a dick in him. 

__

“Sit, Jon,” Martin parrots with a little grin, petting over Jon’s thighs as he situates himself. Jon is biting at his bottom lip with focus as he lines himself up with one hand, the other arm slung around Martin’s shoulders. 

__

Tim chose a toy he’s used on Jon before— nicely curved and powder blue, a bit thicker than Tim’s own. It gets really lovely noises out of Jon on a normal day, and Tim is looking forward to seeing how having Martin at the wheel might capitalize on that. He is of course personally familiar with the experience, and _God_ can Martin fuck him good.

__

The way Jon’s eyes glaze just a little when he sinks down is priceless. Martin does a predictable, cheeky little thrust of his hips which seats Jon fully on the cock and Jon whimpers, his body tensing all at once and then relaxing on an exhaled breath. 

__

“Okay?” Martin is practically glowing with adoration and what seems like awe as he looks at Jon, eyes not leaving his face watching for any sign of distress. Tim’s chest tightens slightly with affection. 

__

Jon’s lips part and he breathes out a _“yeah,”_ as he lifts himself partway and then drops back down, eyes flickering shut as he does.

__

_“Oh,”_ Martin breathes. “Jon, you’re _so..._ I can’t believe this is… I can’t believe this is happening, God.” He leans in and peppers Jon with kisses, over his shoulders and neck and the dip of his collarbone. “Can’t believe you’re really in my lap, right now, I didn’t even think— I didn’t…” he trails off, tangling his fingers in Jon’s hair and tugging him in for a heated kiss. 

__

Jon moans loudly into Martin’s mouth and it breaks into a shout when Martin thrusts sharply. “‘M sorry,” he mumbles when they break apart, and Martin rests his forehead against Jon’s chin. Jon’s breath ruffles his curls as he speaks. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was… I still don’t think… that I’m— _ahh, ah—_ I’m not— _nnggh,”_

__

“Stop talking, Jon, I know what you’re gonna say and I don’t— I don’t wanna hear it,” Martin says, as firmly as he can manage. 

__

Before Jon can protest, Martin tips backward onto Tim’s admittedly excessive amount of pillows, bringing Jon down with him. He’s got more leverage now and he uses it to fuck into Jon at a slightly quicker pace than before. All that comes out of Jon is more broken moans as he obeys, dropping his head to Martin’s chest. 

__

Tim sees his opening then, and when he kneels beside them Martin smiles up at him brightly. “Welcome back,” he says. 

__

The wonder of how they’ve all fallen into this with such ease sort of dawns on Tim, then. “Happy to be here,” he responds, twisting his fingers in Jon’s silky hair. “Can I just take a moment to reflect on what an honor it is to have you two gorgeous things in my bed at once?”

__

Martin giggles. “Remind me again why I just let you tag along for our first time?” 

__

“I don’t remember you citing a reason.”

__

“I’ll be trying to justify it for years to come.” Martin deadpans. Jon snorts into the fabric of his binder and Tim pouts exaggeratedly.

__

“Just think, now you’ll get two first times. This one, and the one where I’m not there to bother you and you can admit your love and cry into each other’s hair.”

__

At the mention of the L word, Martin blushes furiously and Jon makes a disgruntled sound, curling his fingers around Martin’s upper arm. 

__

“Right,” Martin says, and it comes out a bit squeaky. “Were you going to get in on this?” He drags his fingernails up Jon’s back demonstrably, leaving faint red marks and getting a lovely sigh. 

__

The sight of Jon’s pretty hole stretched around the cock has Tim very nearly drooling, and he’s a bit worried about how long he’s going to last once that becomes him, too. It’s been a while since he partook this particular act, and these two in particular have him struggling to think straight. He nods in affirmation. “Jon? You want more?”

__

Jon groans and arches his back, moving his hips in a tight little circle as he meets Martin’s thrusts. He seems to be enjoying drooling onto Martin, and doesn’t pick his head up as he mumbles. “Yes, please.”

__

Martin obligingly makes room for Tim between his legs and Tim can’t help but admire the view. Both of them are dripping wet; Martin’s thighs are slippery with both their slick. With a little effort, Tim wiggles his fingers under the harness. It’s got a nice convenient criss-cross over the crotch that he can get between when he wants. 

__

Martin gasps and jerks when Tim dips two fingers inside him, subsequently slamming into Jon especially hard and making him yelp. “Oh _fuck,”_ Martin whimpers.

__

“I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard later,” he says, sliding up to rub at Martin’s dick. “Doesn’t he deserve that, Jon, for fucking you so good?”

__

The two of them groan in unison, and Jon sucks in a sharp breath before he responds. “I’ll do it,” he says and Tim laughs.

__

“Good.” He puts the lube to the side for now. Jon likes the friction rather than an easy slide, and there’s plenty here already to slick his fingers just enough. There’s _something_ about using the wet on his fingers from touching Martin to press into Jon, and he doesn’t hold back from groaning softly as he does it. “Fuck,” he whispers. “You’re both so hot.”

__

Jon moans, and it’s muffled in a way that draws Tim’s eyes away from what he’s doing. His breath catches in his throat as he looks up to see Jon with two of Martin’s fingers in his mouth, three knuckles deep, drool already sliding down his chin. “Fucking _Christ,”_ Tim hisses. It takes a moment for Martin to tear his eyes away from Jon but he gives Tim a vaguely helpless, blissed out smile. 

__

“Is he always like this?” 

__

“Yes, he always wants something to suck on, no, he’s not usually this besotted and eager and nice.”

__

Jon makes an offended noise and pushes back against Tim’s hand. “Alright, alright,” Tim soothes, petting down his back. He withdraws his two fingers and drags them down, letting the cock drag against them as it moves— a bit slower and less consistent than it was before; Martin is very distracted now. He’d hooked his fingers behind Jon’s bottom teeth to pull him closer and is now kissing him deeply, smearing spit across his cheek. 

__

Tim grabs the lube and pops the cap. 

__

When he pushes three fingers in, Jon comes again. He shakes this time, whimpering into Martin’s mouth. “Oh my God, Jon.” Tim says, steadily sinking his fingers in as far as they’ll go. He bends over slightly, reaching around Jon a bit awkwardly. It pays off when he rubs with purpose over Jon’s swollen dick and Jon’s arms give out. He collapses against Martin again with a sharp cry, immediately shuddering into another small orgasm. 

__

Tim grins proudly. It’s not easy to get him to do that. 

__

“Fuck,” Jon gasps. “Give me a moment.” 

__

Tim slips his fingers back out obligingly. Martin has already gone still, looking somewhat glad for the break. He pets over Jon’s hair as he gapes at Tim. “You’ve never made _me_ do that!” 

__

“That’s not _my_ fault, you just don’t do it. I try my best!”

__

Jon huffs out a laugh. “I’d like to see what trying your best looks like,” he murmurs and Martin looks stricken. 

__

“You can watch next time,” Tim promises, winking at Martin. “Now, still want me to fuck you?”

__

Jon wiggles and nods. “Yes, ‘m ready now, yes.”

__

“I want you to come up here.” Tim says firmly, reaching out to tug on Jon’s hair. With a little effort, Jon pushes himself to sit up straight. He sinks down fully onto the cock in him as he does, and hisses when it bottoms out. 

__

“That’s too far, c’mon,” Tim says, and he knows he’s testing the capabilities of Jon’s already trembling thighs having him lean forward, but that’s half the fun. With a sigh Jon obeys, Martin reaching out to hold him at the waist. 

__

Finally, _God, finally,_ Tim slicks himself up and presses the head of his cock against Jon’s hole. “Have you ever actually done this before?” He asks on a whim as he rocks his hips, pushing in just an inch. It feels fucking glorious, and it takes serious effort not to go too fast. 

__

Jon groans and curses. “I don’t see why that matters,” he grits out. “Come on, please.”

__

That’s definitely a no. Tim hums and pushes further, halfway. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

__

Martin moves then, and Tim feels the slide of it inside Jon and he moans as he hilts himself fully. “Fuck, this is good.” 

__

“Yeah,” Martin breathes, and Tim briefly wonders just how fast he’ll unravel once Tim gets his mouth on him. _If_ Tim gets his mouth on him; none of this has been going the way he thinks it will so far. 

__

“God, just fuck me, please,” Jon begs and Tim grabs him by the hair. He pulls out partway and then tugs, forcing Jon up again as he snaps his hips forward. 

__

Jon bends like a bow and he shouts. Martin’s hips are stuttering as he watches, but it’s alright, Tim is doing work enough as he wraps an arm around Jon’s middle and sets a mildly excessive pace. The bruise he left on Jon’s shoulder earlier is purpling nicely, and he doesn’t resist the urge to lean forward and press his tongue against it. 

__

Normally Tim could hold out for a while, but he doesn’t think he’s going to try, this time. Judging from the desperate noises now spilling from Jon’s open mouth, he’s going to lose it again in no time, and Tim desperately wants to lose it right along with him. 

__

When he feels the possibility coiling in his gut he chases it, and Jon knows. He grips Tim’s wrist tightly and tugs his hand down. “C’mon,” he pants. Tim resists.

__

“I think Martin can handle that, hmm?” He mumbles, glancing at the other man over Jon’s shoulder. 

__

Martin looks startled at the mention of his name and he looks away from Jon’s face, first to Tim and then down to their hands. “I-wh- _oh,”_ he stutters. _“Yeah.”_

__

Quickly he slides his hand up from where he’d settled it on Jon’s thigh and pets briefly over Jon’s side before sliding down. Tim feels Jon tighten around him and he lets an undignified whimper escape as the pleasure curls through him. “Tell me, Jon, tell me when,” he gasps.

__

There’s a long moment of just heavy breaths and small, broken noises from Jon before he suddenly reaches back, digging his nails into Tim’s thigh. “I’m— _fuck.”_ He feels impossibly tight around Tim’s cock as he comes, and the sharp bite of his grip sends Tim reeling. His hips stutter and he drops his head to Jon’s shoulder as he follows him over the edge.

__

They tip backwards this time, Tim sitting heavily back on his heels and Jon following, falling into his lap. He weighs practically nothing. The dildo slips out of him as he goes and Martin immediately scrambles to sit up, untangling himself. He’s back right away, though, kissing Jon. Tim doesn’t look up to see but he can hear the soft sound of it, feel the small rumble of a moan in Jon’s throat. 

__

There’s a thin coating of sweat at the small of Jon’s back and Tim slides his knuckles up through it. 

__

Once he’s caught his breath, he taps lightly on Jon’s thigh. “Up,” he says. “We have more business.” 

__

Without breaking apart from Martin for a moment Jon tips forward, onto his knees and then further, crowding Martin back into the nest of pillows and climbing on top of him. Tim’s softening cock slips out of him as he goes and Tim bites his lip hard as he watches cum slide out after it. 

__

“What do you want, Martin, tell me what I can do.” Jon presses the words into Martin’s mouth. For the first time tonight Tim feels the fizz of compulsion in the air. Martin gasps.

__

“Literally anything, Jon, anything I just want you to touch me, both of you, make me come, you’re so goddamn pretty right now and I’m so gone, I’m so…” He trails off, his fingers curling against Jon’s side and in his hair as he writhes underneath him. 

__

Jon tried blindly fumbling at the harness, then pushing up and looking at it, frowning deeply. After not very much effort he looks over his shoulder at Tim, who is still sitting there somewhat dazed. “Can you help me with this thing?” 

__

Tim blinks. “Oh, yeah.”

__

Somehow they manage to turn something that should be very simple into a group effort, but they manage to get Martin out of the contraption. Jon sits back on his heels and tugs the toy out of it. 

__

“Whatcha doin’ with that, babe?” Tim questions as Martin pulls him down for a kiss. He bites at Martin’s lip just as Jon responds. 

__

“Martin.” Jon says simply, as if it’s the answer to the question. When Tim realizes a moment later that it is in fact the answer, his eyes fly open and he bites down a little too hard. What is likely just convenience to Jon is, somehow, _ridiculously hot._ Martin seems to feel the same way, and he just whines and tugs him closer, kissing him harder. 

__

“‘S this alright, Martin?” Jon asks as he pushes at Martin’s knee and settles between his legs. Tim frees himself from Martin’s grip and dips down to lick at his jaw. 

__

“I’m gonna come the moment you put that in me,” Martin says helplessly. 

__

“I believe that’s rather the point, hmm?” There’s a satisfied edge to Jon’s voice, and Martin whimpers as he speaks, moving in a way that says Jon is doing wicked things with his fingers. “Do you want to come now?”

__

Martin seems conflicted until Tim bites down above his jugular. “Ah _fuck,_ yes, yeah, please,” he babbles. 

__

Once again, not one to miss a show, Tim props himself up on an elbow. He’ll go down on Martin in the morning, he decides.

__

Jon’s eyebrows crease slightly in concentration as he pushes the toy in carefully, not even halfway. Martin twitches impatiently. “You don’t have to be gentle, Jon, I’m more than— _hhhoohGod.”_ He jerks suddenly and his back arches off the bed as Jon takes the hint and pushes the rest of the toy in with one smooth motion. “God, yeah, yeah, more, please.”

__

It takes only four firm shoves, and Martin is shuddering apart. Tim pets at his hair and coos into his ear, telling him just how pretty he is, how good he was for them. 

__

Jon is patient, pressing kisses to Martin’s stomach and hips until he stops shaking. He gently pulls out the toy and Martin hums and reaches out, making grabbing motions. Jon nearly elbows Tim in the ribs when he clambers up to join them. Martin’s arm wraps around his waist like the two of them are puzzle pieces and he rolls them smoothly over, propping himself up over Jon, who takes his face in both hands when he kisses him. 

__

Tim sighs happily and rolls onto his back next to them, shutting his eyes. He feels thoroughly fucked out and at the same time like he could do this all night. Though, judging by the way Jon no longer has any hint of anxious tightness to him, he has done his job. 

__

“How are we feeling, boys?” He asks, not too tired to be a little smug. 

__

In terrifying unison, Martin and Jon mutter, “a bit jealous, honestly,” and “rather jealous,” respectively. Martin picks up his head and they look at each other with mild bafflement. Tim folds in half with laughter, curling towards them.

__

“Of me!?” He wheezes after a moment. 

__

“Yes!” Jon says defensively as Martin just slides down to hide his face in the crook of Jon’s neck. “I want to know everything about Martin that you know.” He continues, very seriously. Martin tries burrowing his way under Jon’s arm as if he’s attempting to escape. Jon calmly reaches up and scratches his fingernails lightly over the back of Martin’s neck, stilling him instantly. 

__

Tim looks between Jon’s face and his hand with bemusement. “Looks like you’re well on your way.” 

__

Jon’s expression softens into a rare, distant fondness. “Thank you for this, Tim.” 

__

Tim nods. “Anytime.”

__

Smiling, Jon shakes his head and gestures to Martin. “No, this.”

__

Martin’s breathing has evened out in a way that seems suspiciously like he’s fallen asleep. A few drinks, a dramatic confession and a few orgasms between... friends... will do that to you, Tim thinks. _Hm. Friends._

__

“You gonna take him away from me now, Casanova?” Tim quips. He’s not sure if he’s really worried. Maybe he is. Just a bit. 

__

Jon’s mouth twists thoughtfully. “We’ve not even really spoken about our feelings or intentions, Tim... this all happened rather quickly, really I’m not sure it’s safe to assume that I’ll even… that he’ll…”

__

“Jon.” Tim gives him an _are you serious?_ look. 

__

Bashfully, Jon dips his head, leaning his forehead on Martin’s shoulder for a moment before kissing it quick and then looking back up at Tim. “Even if this is… something, I’m sure neither of us have any intention of leaving you behind.” 

__

Martin takes this opportune moment to mumble, snort, and shift in his sleep, tightening his arm around Jon’s torso. Jon laughs, and it’s so genuinely joyful, and Tim once again wonders if he’s a little bit in love. “Cool.” He says simply. “So, should I go get a washcloth, or…?”

__

Jon wrinkles his nose. “Shower?” He asks, hopefully. 

__

Tim looks pointedly at Martin. “You’re welcome to try, but good luck. He’s like a bear trap.”

__

“In that case, I’ll take what I can get.” 

__

When Tim returns from the bathroom, Jon has predictably dozed off as well, Martin’s head tucked under his chin. The usual troubled crease of his forehead is completely gone, and in fact he looks positively peaceful. Tim wonders briefly if that means they might get a night free of bad dreams, for once. Maybe.

__

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this. Is a monster . It took me a very long time . And I love it and I hope you loved it too come yell if u want @squeebop or @archivemedaddy


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